The funny thing about homeless people

He sings to a couple in the park. The man finds it funny; the woman is uncomfortable.

He has a beard and a tattered straw hat. Affluence provides that I make a statement with my clothes. What I wear represents who I am, who I want to be, or whatever.

In his assumed poverty he’s making a statement with his clothes.

I’m a degree closer to being comfortable with him.

I like him. Or better, I like him from my observer perch.

He doesn’t expect anything. All his possessions sit around him and he is content. He’s found happiness in the park and the couple that he sings to.

Guilt. The cup bearer of the affluent millennial. We feel corrupted by our inheritance. It sinks in as I watch him.

Pity. This time for myself.

This man has found joy, pleasure, purpose in his life with the little he has. I pity myself for not finding satisfaction when I have the world.

The funny thing about homeless people? They make you pity yourself.